SS Artemis Links!

SS Artemis Links!

I’ve already begun posting to Wattpad and AO3, so I thought I’d give you a link to the pages here :)

SS Artemis -- Wattpad

SS Artemis -- AO3

(PS ~ The book I wrote on Wattpad for Rosie, The Enemy’s Daughter, is listed and linked under her name in my Masterlist. I’m currently working on uploading it to AO3 as well for those of you that were unable to read it on Wattpad, so look forward to that!)

Endlessly

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a fateful encounter steals you away from Jennie, you come to realize it might not mark the end for your love.

Word Count: ~ 8,358

Warnings / Misc. -- Death, Depression, Angst, Healing, Fluff (Happy Ending)

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! Hope you enjoy this one :) 💜 I just recently finished watching Goblin, and it inspired me to write this 😌🤘

(Note: In a later piece of dialogue, a Jamie Anderson quote is used as inspiration. The dialogue is basically the same as the quote from her, just with a few extra words.)

》》》 Happy Reading ❤️‍🔥🌹《《《

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The burning, jagged path that the bullet etched into you wasn't what hurt. To be honest, at that point, you couldn't feel much anymore; the adrenaline was overpowering.

But what did hurt, what made your heart ache, deeply and irrevocably, was knowing that Jennie was there to witness it all. 

Her dark eyes were washed in a new gleam of horror as you fell to your knees, helplessly gasping for air but only managing to draw in short bursts of it. She watched as blood soaked a circle into the fibers of your shirt, deep crimson sprawling across your abdomen at an alarming rate. 

But you just looked on, smiling a bittersweet smile at her. She would be safe now, thanks to your sacrifice, and you could die peacefully knowing that. 

Your vision began to blur then, turning hazy and closing in upon itself. Dizziness racked your body, soon sending you falling onto your side. The ground was harsh, unforgiving -- you'll never forget how it felt beneath your fingertips. How cold and final it was; that you knew then you had arrived at your place of departure from this Earth. 

It was a terrifying reality to attempt to grasp all at once, but Jennie was by your side before you could get too scared. Her warm hands chased the fears from your mind as she touched your forehead, clearing your hair out of your face.

"Y-Y/N…" her voice broke, just the same as her heart. 

"I know," you soothed, bringing a hand up to wrap around her wrist. Some blood got on her in the process, and part of you regretted touching her because of it. 

Your free hand stayed in front of you, applying pressure to the wound in your stomach in order to buy some more time.

"I'm not hurting, jagi." 

It was a lie, of course, but with good reason. The hopeless look in her eyes was more painful than what you were experiencing anyway, and you'd have said anything to make her feel better.

Merely two feet away, the mugger that you fended off laid in a heap of filth and ruin. The gun that he shot you with rested on the ground, his fingers no longer tightly curled around its handle. The life had already drained from his eyes a few seconds prior as he succumbed to his injuries, thanks to your efforts.

Jennie's brows lifted in realization. "I'll call an ambulance," she declared, sitting up on her knees to retrieve her cell phone from her purse. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, each droplet bitter and filled with budding grief. 

But you held onto her, stopping her and silently shaking your head when she glanced down at you in a rush. 

"Just be with me," you asked softly, knowing it wouldn't do any good to waste time calling. The nearest hospital was halfway across town, and you had a couple minutes or so left at best. 

How could you possibly say everything you wanted to in such a short time frame?

"Y/N, please," she sobbed, voice hoarse. "I have to try."

An overwhelming taste of iron filled your mouth, but you swallowed it down the best you could before responding. 

"We both know it won't w-work," you managed out through gritted teeth. 

She shook her head and cursed into the night air before turning to look at you. 

"Alright, baby," she relented, cupping your cheek. Her free hand was at the side of your head, her palm pressing into the rough concrete as she held herself up. She felt like collapsing, then, and dying right along with you. 

If all of her couldn't, a piece of her surely would. 

"I'm right here; I won't go anywhere else. Right here, Y/N/N." The words fell from her lips like a mantra as she pressed her forehead against yours. 

"I love you to the moon and back, Nini. I always have," you admitted, thinking back to the first time you realized you were in love. 

"And I know this looks bad," a cough momentarily interrupted you, but you persisted, "but I'll find you in the next life. We'll be together there, baby, and we'll grow old…" 

A pitiful whimper left her at that, and she sank down defeatedly. 

"It'll be great, Jennie. I promise." You brought a bloody hand up to her cheek and turned her head so you could look up into her eyes. "Live a long, happy life here, for me. I'll be waiting on the other side." 

She nodded, barely able to see you anymore from the blur of her tears. But she blinked them away, not wanting to lose a second with you. 

You coughed again, the sound deep and ominous, and were left with a sort of wheeze when it subsided. You both knew your time was dwindling. 

"Kiss m--"

She had the same thought as you, and her lips were on yours before you could even finish the request. 

Her cherry lip balm flooded your fading senses, cutting through the dullness to send you off with one last parting gift. It tasted uniquely like her, and it smelled like fresh Maraschinos.

Memories flashed through your aching mind in a mix of colors and sounds, blending with one another to create the story of your short life. A tear rolled down the side of your face, dampening a piece of your hair that laid against the ground. 

Your hands pulled her in closer as you kissed her, desperately wanting to give her something to remember you by in the interim. 

Her lips were warm and demanding as they slid against yours, offering their safe touch. Demanding you to fight a little longer. To kiss her a little harder. To somehow pull through, when she knew in her heart it was futile. 

Neither of you stopped until your kisses became a little weaker, unable to match the strength of her own. 

"Remember the good times, Jen," you pleaded a few seconds later, voice breathy. "I'll always be with you." 

More sobs wracked through her body as she hugged you close, clinging to you like never before. She whispered remedies in your ear to rival your broken groans of pain. 

Your eyes began to glaze over, and you felt warm all over. It was a strange sensation, but you smiled bittersweetly. You had always been afraid of being cold when you left. 

"I don't have any regrets, jagi," you said lowly, barely any energy left. Your responses were slowing down. 

"You gave me enough happiness to last a lifetime. Thank you." 

Her throat felt like it was closing, and she struggled to breathe. Inklings of a potential panic attack rose up in her, but she suppressed them as best she could. The last thing you needed was to worry on your way out. 

More of her tears fell against your neck, where her head was nestled. 

"I've loved you since our first date, Y/N," she sniffled. "I waited my whole life to find you, and you were worth every second." 

A smile found its way to your lips, slowly but surely, and rested there. 

"But now I'll have to miss you longer than I've known you. How am I supposed to cope?" She was defeated.

"I won't be very far," your voice had fallen to just above a whisper, barely even able to be classified as such.

Her hand rested against your collarbone, gripping the material of your shirt with such miserable tenacity that you wondered for a second if it was enough to keep you on Earth. 

An ambulance siren rang out in the distance, lonely and faraway. It might as well have been on Mars.

"Just smile when you think of me. You know how much I love your sm…."

Jennie's eyes shot open as you went silent. 

So, it seemed, her hold wasn't quite strong enough to tether you down. 

"Y/N?" She asked, sitting up. The small smile from before was still on your face, and your eyes were shut. Your color was gone, leaving your skin pale and void of the vibrancy you always possessed. 

"Y/N, no." She shook her head. "No. You're not gone yet. Not like this." 

She looked down at your stomach, where your blood-drenched hand had fallen away from your wound, only slightly concealing it at that point. She laid your arm down at your side, grimacing at the bullet hole once it was fully revealed. A few gashes marked your skin as well, cut in random patterns. They were made by the assailant's knife when you first put yourself between the two of them, prepared to defend Jennie with your life. When you had eventually wrestled it away from him, he cowardly took his gun from his waistline. 

You hadn't even had time to flinch.

Her shattered gaze retreated back up to your face. It was still hauntingly beautiful, somehow. Just like Juliet's. 

Did that make her Romeo, then? 

"The ambulance isn't far away, baby. Come on. Stay with me." 

She sat down beside you and pulled you in, silently asking herself why she hadn't done that in the first place. You deserved to be comfortable, and she hadn't even given you that. 

Regret number one. 

"Come on, baby," she cried, watching as your head lulled back when she pulled you closer. 

"Y/N, please." Her forehead pressed to the exposed area of your chest, feeling the last remnants of your warmth fade out. The beats of your failing heart had already stopped, and she felt her own wavering when she realized that. 

And so, there you sat. Your final resting place. Her breaths turned to hiccups as she struggled to keep a steady rhythm going, hyper aware of every intake and outtake of her own in the absence of yours. 

She was inconsolable as the ambulance arrived ten minutes later, and she wouldn't let go of you. Her tears poured like rain, and she felt that they would never stop. 

Her love was gone. Totally and absolutely. 

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

*an unclear amount of time later*

You awake with a wretched gasp, clutching your abdomen tightly. 

Disorientation is prevalent among your senses for several seconds, but it eventually begins to subside. You find yourself in the middle of a room once it does. 

The space around you is bright, but not clinically so. It's aura, more specifically, is light. It appears to be painted some soft shade of white, and it's void of any furniture or signifiers of human presence. 

Cautiously, you sit up. A door catches your eye from across the room; it's made of a sleek material completely different from everything else. A sign rests above it, reading "The In-Between."

Upon glancing down at yourself, you find that you still have on the outfit from the night of your death. There's no blood in sight, though, and the material has rid itself of any gashes or holes you earned back then. 

You smile momentarily, feeling true comfort in the absence of pain. 

A few seconds later, you hear a knock at the door. A woman opens it and steps through shortly after, bowing her head in greeting. 

You sit up straighter to receive it and reciprocate as she approaches you. 

Her dark, golden brown hair forms a natural afro; its curls are vibrant and beautiful, and they bounce lightly with every step she takes. Her skin is tanned, a mix of chestnut brown and sepia, and it contrasts wonderfully with the mild-colored tunic and pants that she wears.

Her hazel eyes, flickering with accents of green and mahogany, land on you. 

A dark folder is clutched in her hand. 

"Hello, Y/N. My name is Aniela, and I'm your assigned spirit guide." 

"Spirit guide?" You ask, brows furrowing slightly. 

She nods, having done this a million times before. You're by no means the first spirit she's had to introduce to this whole system. 

"We're tasked with helping souls cross over to the afterlife in peace." 

You glance down, taking the information in. 

"I see that you lived a courageous life," she notes, flipping through the pages of her folder. She flicks her index finger up into the air, and a desk appears in the room. Two chairs sit on either side of it as well, ready for you. 

"But since your death was a violent one, certain dues must be paid for you to gain peace." 

She extends a hand to you, and you allow her to help you up. She leads you to the chairs, where both of you sit. 

"Like what?" You ask, settling back into the cushions of the chair. 

"There are two types of errands that spirits have to tend to. First: personal matters of their heart." She puts the folder on the desk and clasps her hands together on top of it. 

"I can sense that you still have more you want to say to someone." She briefly closes her eyes, searching for something in her mind. 

"Jennie, right?" 

"Yes, that's right." 

She nods. "The second type is a matter of restoring the balance of the universe. Because you took a life before you died -- though it was in self defense -- you have to make amends for it. You have to help someone on Earth find closure before you can have it yourself." 

"How do I know who to help?" You ask curiously. 

"Considering you were protecting someone before your death, you've earned the right to choose who you help. That's our policy here." She explains.

You don't hesitate to speak your reply. "Then I choose Jennie."

"I figured as much," a light smile shows on her lips as she opens the folder, "so I went ahead and prepared the paperwork to put that in motion." 

"Jennie will become a part of what we call the Kulmis. This is the network of people on Earth that spirits here are looking after. You'll be tasked with helping her move on; once you've accomplished that, you can do so as well." 

Part of you wonders if this is all some wild dream that your dying mind had given you on the way out. After all, this entire place is totally foreign; no religion that you'd ever heard of had anything like this. 

Aniela can tell that you're struggling to process it all. 

"I know it's a lot to take in, and it may be a while before you adjust to this new routine. But I'll be with you every step of the way, and all you have to do is ask me if you have questions."

You nod again, taking a deep breath. The sensation is odd now, though; you can still breathe, but you lack the need to. You wonder if this body of yours is even really one at all. 

"What happens now?"

"You'll be sent back to Earth to complete your job. You're essentially a ghost now; you have the ability to manipulate and influence things around you, but people can't see you. Certain activities tax your energy more than others, so be careful not to influence too much all at once." 

You think for a moment. "How do I regain my energy?" 

"You just have to wait. It'll come back with time." She explains. 

"Will you be there with me?" Your fingers fidget in your lap.

She shakes her head, lips pressed in a line. "I have to stay here. We're not permitted to exist there on Earth, but I can still sense if you need me. All you have to do is ask a question, and I can still answer you." 

"Can people hear me speak?" 

She tilts her head slightly, curls following the movement. "That depends on intent. If you're asking me something, then no. But if you're actively using your energy to say something to them, it's possible. Some spirits call it a waste, though." She looks down momentarily. 

"Why?" 

"Sometimes your words will barely be audible no matter how loud you try to make them. It's a lottery that takes a large amount of energy from spirits; a lot of people have decided not to even try it." Her expression turns a little solemn at that. 

"I understand. Thank you for the help." 

Her long lashes flutter as she looks back up at you, smiling the tiniest bit. She hopes that your case will be one of the successful ones. 

"Do I go back now?" You ask, glancing around the room. 

She nods, standing. "I'll send you back. Just come here." She motions for you to meet her at the side of the desk, and you follow her instructions. 

"Put your right hand over your heart and close your eyes, please." 

You do, and she flicks her hands out at her sides. A strong, blue flame is emitted from her palms, swirling in a magical dance. She brings them to hover over your arm, trailing from your elbow to your heart. 

"Be well, my friend. I'll see you again in the future." 

She presses a hand against yours and touches your forehead with the other, casting you out. 

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Earth, 2022 -- 9:27 PM

Seoul, SK

You wake again with a start, feeling as if your whole body has been jolted with the most powerful force in existence. A few coughs leave you as you stand up, brushing yourself off and taming your hair. 

You're in an alleyway between a bar and restaurant in downtown Seoul. The ground is grimy, and you cringe at the fact that you were laying on it just a moment ago. 

"Really, Aniela? Couldn't have spawned me upright?"

In her office, she grins. You're already complaining and you haven't even been back for a minute. 

"Sorry, Y/N. Maybe next time I'll remember to do that." 

You scoff, but you're secretly smiling. You hope she can't tell, because you don't want to give her the satisfaction.

Your feet lead you towards the light of the city as you emerge from the dark alley, and you find comfort in the familiar setting. People mingle about, stopping by the street stands to get food as shopping bags hang on their arms. Teenagers dressed in their uniforms gossip and laugh, shoving each other on their way home. A few children hold their mother's hands, their eyes open wide and filled with wonder as they look around. 

In some ways, you feel just like them right now.

The sounds of the city grow into a lively chorus as you shove your hands into your pockets and begin walking through it all. 

--

Jennie's Apartment

As soon as you arrive in front of Jennie's apartment building -- where the two of you used to live together -- a strange chill runs up your spine. It makes you feel cold, but you do your best to shake it off. 

The light of her bedroom is on, glowing out into the night through the shade that's drawn in the window. Shadows of movement come from inside, and a few seconds later, the window opens. 

You perk up, subconsciously taking a step forward as you gaze up at her. Your shoes make a soft crunch against the road as you do so. 

She pushes the pane up and locks it in place before sitting down on the sill. Her feet dangle outside of it, hovering a couple feet above the metal landing of the fire escape. So many tears shine in her eyes that you can see them glistening from where you are. 

A heavy sigh falls from her lips, shuddered and poignant. Your chest aches at the sound - literally - and you bring a hand up to your heart to try to rub it away. 

"Hey, baby. It's me again," she says quietly, taking something from the desk that sits next to her, just inside the room. You step closer again, only to find that she's holding a picture.

A framed picture, so be precise, of the two of you. It was taken on your four year anniversary, just three months ago. You remember how much she cherishes that photo. 

Her head hangs defeatedly as she runs a finger over the curve of your jaw, a whole new batch of tears brimming. She sniffles, and you shut your eyes, whispering a quiet wish to be up there with her. 

When you open them again, you find that you are. 

How the hell that had just happened, you have no clue. This new way of life will definitely take some getting used to, but you can find out how to navigate it later. For now, you conceal your shock; you want to be here for Jennie in any way you can. 

Now on the landing in front of her, your fingers curl around the railing. She holds all of your attention and she doesn't even know it. 

"I really miss you," she sobs, her voice hoarse from all the crying she's been doing, and turns to bury her face in the crook of her elbow. Her body jumps and twitches as her erratic breathing intensifies, breaking your heart even more. 

A couple minutes pass before she's calmed down enough to talk again. 

"The girls have been checking up on me everyday," she says, and you're relieved. You've been worried sick. 

"They miss you, too. I saw Jisoo cry for the second time in my life yesterday. We were talking about you when it started, and then she told me about a present she never got to give to you. I guess she had planned to bring it over on her next day off of work, but you…" she trails off, and you know what she means. 

You died before Jisoo could give it to you. 

Clearly Jennie can't even bring herself to say that you died. She's nowhere close to closure. 

You set your jaw and step forward, getting a better look at her. Her nose is a bright shade of red, her clothes are mussed and disheveled, and you can practically see a dark cloud hanging over her. The area under her eyes is adorned with dark circles -- evidence of the sleep she's lost since you left. 

Your eyes drift down her body and eventually land on her watch. Wanting to test something, you tap its surface and hope that you're capable of turning it on.

Sure enough, you are. 

Jennie glances down at it, just like you. She probably thinks she got a notification.

When you look at the date and time displayed there, you realize just how long you've been gone. 

2 weeks.

That's simultaneously surprising and… expected. When you met Aniela, it felt like a mere few seconds after your death. But when you entered the city again, you could feel that it had begun to grow and continue on without you. Its energy has begun to shift to something new that you haven't been here to witness. 

It's an odd thing, but it's undeniable. 

"Lisa and Rosie are just as bad," she starts up again, turning herself sideways in the window and tucking her legs in close to her chest. "And your family-- God… telling them what happened was terrible." 

A frown hangs heavy on your face at the thought of that. You're not sure if you're able to visit anyone else since you chose Jennie as your Kulmis. 

"But I'm barely hanging on, Y/N." 

Your head snaps up at that. 

"I don't feel like eating or doing anything… this is awful," she sets the picture in her lap and covers her face, allowing her head to push back against the wall. Her muffled cries bleed out into the night air, echoing among the quiet. 

"I've barely gotten out of bed these past few days. I thought things would get a little easier after your funeral, but it's only been harder." Her voice is haunting, filled with unprocessed grief. 

You can't take it anymore. Seeing her so broken is doing the same to you. 

You step forward and pull yourself up into the window. Your legs straddle either side of it as you settle down, and you move to touch her. 

Maybe, since you can manipulate things, she'll be able to sense your presence at the very least.

When your palm makes contact with her knee, you can barely feel her. If you push too hard, your hand goes right through her. 

Keeping this in mind, you scoot forward and wrap your arms around her, but just barely. Your hold is loose, but it holds all the love and comfort that you have to give to her. 

"I love you," you say, wanting to cry right along with her. You close your eyes as your heart makes a wish.

"Help her feel me, Aniela. Please. Let her know I'm here with her." 

You press into her a little more when suddenly your body begins to hum. It's gentle but consistent, and you have no choice but to just let it happen. 

Once it subsides, you pull away slightly. 

Jennie's attention is caught by something outside, on the roof of the next building over, and you follow her line of sight to discover what it is. 

An owl. (Thanks to an online quiz you once did with her for fun, you found that your "spirit animal" is that exact type of owl. Hers is a cat.)

Go figure. 

She laughs lightly through her tears, shaking her head. 

A few seconds later, she speaks. "Thanks for checking in, baby. I'll try to rest now." 

You step out onto the landing as she climbs back into the room, parting ways yet again. She sends a whispered I love you up to the stars before shutting the window behind herself, and you lean back against the railing with a sigh. 

This is going to be daunting. 

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Five Days Later

You've fallen into a sort of rhythm with Jennie over the past few days: you watch over her while she works, and spend the evenings with her out on the window. She apologizes for new regrets each time, declares her love and pain, confesses things she wanted to tell you… she talks like you're really there with her, and you're thankful for that. 

You're hoping that the whole process of it is helping her heal. 

You've sent her as many signs of your presence as Aniela is capable of helping you with, and you've manipulated things to brighten her day. 

Sometimes you'll subtly pull the curtain back when you sense that she's getting chilly and allow the warm sunlight to reach her skin. 

Other times, if she's misplaced something, you'll find it and put it somewhere easy for her to discover. You always love seeing her celebrate when she locates it, and Aniela can sense it too. She's awarded a moment of happiness -- something she can't get enough of right now. 

But one day, this whole routine came crashing down, crumbling in upon itself like a house of cards. All at once, with one phone call, Jennie's progress was stripped away from her.

It was from an insurance company that hadn't caught wind of your death yet, and Jennie was forced to relay the details for their report so she could close the account. 

The seemingly insignificant interaction proved devastating, though, as she grew emotional on the telephone. You held her from behind, telling her to stay strong with every ounce of energy you possessed. She managed to make it through, but she retreated back into herself when it was over. 

Her bedroom became her haven, and you pulled her in as close as you could as she cried. 

That night, she didn't go out to the window. She stayed in bed, rolled amongst the sheets, as she entered into a cycle of crying and sleeping. The tears only stopped when she was unconscious, and her body used that time to refill its reserves, evidently. 

A haze settled over her; a fog in her mind, blurring any sense of when one ended and the other began. It was an incessant, gut wrenching despair that you were helpless in stopping.

All night -- well into the AM, really -- she sobbed. The call had reopened wounds that were just beginning to heal, and it's always then that it hurts the most. Old wounds are tougher, a little more resilient. But new ones lack even the idea of that. 

She was left in a renewed state of sorrow, now, and you could do nothing but watch. You feared that sending her a sign would throw her over the edge or make her more upset, so you refrained. 

And, darkly, you didn't really know what kind of headspace she was in at that point. Her doctor had given her some antidepressants and sleeping pills to cope with your death, and she'd been eyeing them from time to time. Her body ached for release, for the tension to be relieved; but you stayed by her side and did your best to fight her demons with her. 

You'd never forgive yourself if she did something like that on your watch. 

When she had fallen asleep on that sixth night, you stepped outside to get some air. You could feel that same, ominous chill you first felt when you arrived, and it did nothing to comfort you. 

It felt like a warning sign, and you knew then that you had to reach out for guidance. 

"This isn't working, Aniela. She's getting worse now." 

In the In-Between, Aniela was filling out some forms before her next meeting commenced. She'd be discussing the endeavors of all of her spirits and how their Kulmis are doing. Including you and Jennie. 

She finished writing something down on the sheet in front of her before responding. 

"Is there anything you used to do to calm her down?" She suggested, thinking. 

"Nothing that I haven't already tried; we've exhausted our options." You shook your head. "But there has to be something else." 

She took a deep breath, considering every tool she had at her disposal. Spirit guides are strictly prohibited from interfering with human life in any way, seeing as how it can alter the course of nature and affect other people's futures as well. But what she could do, what she knew was a potential option, required approval from her boss. 

She replayed the memories of your interactions with Jennie, remembering how hard you'd been trying to help her obtain the closure that she needs. She's watched every meeting you've had with her, and your effort has been clear every time. 

She knew what she had to do. 

"Y/N, I'll contact you again in about two hours. I have a meeting with my boss, but I have a plan to help you and Jennie. I'll do my best to make it work. Just give me that time." 

"Alright, Aniela. Thank you."

With that you settled at the end of Jennie's bed, tissues and water on hand for when she would eventually wake up. 

*******

Two Hours Later

Likely from your lack of available energy, you fell asleep. The time was needed to recharge your powers, if you want to call them that, and you awoke feeling a little lighter. 

Now, you're communicating with Aniela again as Jennie sluggishly fixes some instant ramen for herself in the kitchen. 

Glimmers of moonlight flit into the apartment through the blinds of the living room window, but the majority of the space around you is dark. The kitchen light above Jennie is on, though, showering her in a soft golden hue.

"I talked things over with my boss, and she's allowing me to commit a Code Green for one night only." Aniela says.

"Code Green? You ask, curious but willing to accept any help you can get.

"She's witnessed your efforts, and she doesn't want Jennie to join us anytime soon. So she's letting me make you visible for one night." 

You stop the pacing you had been doing, and Kuma tilts his head at you from his bed. 

"You can do that?" You're in disbelief. 

"Only under extreme circumstances -- which my boss has deemed this as such." 

"So I'll be like a human, basically?" 

She shrugs, though you can't see it. "More or less." 

"Are you sure she won't have a heart attack or something?" You ask, not wanting to be the reason that Jennie ends up like you. 

Aniela grins at your innocent question, putting her fingers against her lips to stifle a laugh. "I don't think that'll happen. She might pass out, though, so be sure to catch her." She teases, hoping to lighten the mood some. 

"I don't know how to properly thank you," you confess softly, sincerity riding the tones of your voice. 

"You don't need to. I already know, Y/N/N." 

She feels a sense of accomplishment at what she managed to pull off. Convincing her boss took some serious effort, but she'd do it a million times over to ensure that you and Jennie both get the happy ending you deserve. 

She's seen more than enough suffering in her many years as a guide. 

"Just get in position again and leave the rest to me." 

You listen, putting your hand over your heart and closing your eyes. 

"This will wear off in 12 hours, so spend them wisely. We'll talk again then," she explains. 

You nod and thank her again before the transformation begins.

***

A million, tiny pricks all jab into your body at once, but the feeling is over before you can even make a sound of discomfort. You look around, finding that you're right where you were before. 

Kuma barks a few times when you lock eyes with him, his tail beginning to wag as he stands up. But you hold a finger up to your lips as your eyes go wide, silently begging him to be quiet. 

Jennie sends out a half-hearted response for him to do the same, and he listens...

For a minute.

She brings the heat down to simmer as she shuffles to the cabinet to grab a bowl, and you hold your breath. 

Should you hide? 

She doesn't notice you, thankfully, and she returns to her food. A handful of seared chicken is quickly shredded, and she puts it in the bottom of the bowl. Next, she turns the burner off and drains some of the water from her noodles. 

When she moves back towards her bowl, you notice that she's wearing the cat slippers that you bought her for her birthday. 

You smile bittersweetly, and Kuma notices. 

In a span of 30 seconds, just about everything that could possibly go wrong, goes wrong.

Kuma barks again, but this time he doesn't heed Jennie's command for him to quiet down. He leaves his bed and approaches you in a flurry of moving fur, and jumps into your arms. You catch him, causing Jennie to turn around to see what's going on. 

She locks eyes with you, and in an instant she's on the floor. 

"Told you so," Aniela chuckles.

You panic and shout a curse before plopping Kuma back down and running to her. 

You waste no time in carrying her over to the couch and propping her feet up to help her recover faster. You rush back to the sink and wet a rag before returning to her side. 

"Shit, Jennie," you tut, wiping her face and neck down. "I didn't mean to scare you." 

She groans after a minute and begins to stir, thanks to your careful ministrations. 

"Am I dead?" She asks, voice small as she peeks an eye open before quickly closing it again. 

"No," you laugh, smiling. You've missed her. 

"Then how…" she asks, opening her eyes to look at you. Her hand cups your cheek, feeling your soft skin against her palm again. Tears brim her eyes instantly; her lip quivers. 

"I'm dreaming." She tells herself, let down. 

"No, you aren't," you assure her, brushing her hair out of her face. "This is a long story," you say, motioning to yourself, "but I'm ready to tell it all." 

She nods, still woozy and 85% sure that this is some cruel fever dream that her mind has concocted, but she sits up nonetheless. Even if it is a dream, she doesn't think it can make her sadder than she already is.

You sit down beside her and tell her everything you've experienced since your death. Of course, you omit the harsher details, wanting more than anything to spare her and blind her from a little bit of reality. 

In turn, she asks questions and attempts to wrap her brain around all of the info you give, just as you had done before. 

In half an hour, you're finished.

Her hands reach out to hold you, and you offer your body to her willingly, slotting yourself against her when she pulls you in. Your legs wrap around her waist, and your arms hang loosely around her neck. 

"I've missed you so much," she frowns, looking down at your lap.

"I know, baby; I've seen it all, and I've been right by your side. Could you feel me?" You try not to sound too hopeful, just in case she says no. 

"I think so, yeah," she says, looking into your eyes. "I felt a little colder, sometimes, when I thought about you. The atmosphere felt a little different, too; like I wasn't alone." 

Your shoulders relax some, a little tension vanishing. 

"I'm glad, jagi." You bring a hand to caress her cheek like you've done a million times before, but it seems to strike a nerve. 

Barely-dormant tears now brim again, threatening to spill at any second.

"If I had just given the guy my purse, you'd still be here right now." She laments, blaming herself again. 

"Stop, baby. Don't think like that," you soothe, wiping her tears away. "We have no idea what would've happened then, and getting caught up on the what-ifs isn't going to solve anything. None of what happened is your fault." 

Her brown eyes shimmer as she looks at you. Even now, she's beautiful in every way.

"Even knowing what I know now, I'd do what I did all over again to keep you safe. You have to stop blaming yourself, Jen." 

Her hands subconsciously tighten in the material of your shirt, where they rest against your back. 

"You have to let go of all this pain and regret," you command softly, letting your eyes track all over her face. You'll never get tired of seeing her. "I'm not asking you to forget about me or be okay with what happened, but I need you to accept it and start moving forward."

"All this grief you feel," you say, putting a hand over her heart, "is love that has no place to go. Please don't waste it on this; use it to make all kinds of happy memories in this lifetime. Live every second you've got left to the fullest, and tell me about all of it when we meet again."

Some tears fall from your eyes now as well, and you're a bit shocked; you hadn't expected to have that ability. 

Jennie dries them with her thumbs before holding your face in her hands. You melt into her touch, missing her simple embrace more than words can express. 

"I have no idea how I'm going to do this without you, Y/N, but I'll try; okay? I'll do all the things we wanted to and probably cry the whole time. I'll order new foods at our favorite restaurants and wonder if you'd have liked them. And I'll ache at every new thing I discover about myself that I want to share with you. I'll do it because I love you; not because I think it'll be easy." 

"That's more than enough for me, baby. I just need you to take care of yourself, and ask for help when you need it. You know the girls will always be there for you, and our families are just a call away. Don't let this pain win, okay?" You ask, more tears brimming. 

"Don't let my life culminate with my death. We had too many good times for that one moment to speak for me. I'm not my death, Jennie," you assure her, hoping your message resonates. 

"I'm every kiss we ever shared. Every hug and apology that I ever spoke. Every laugh, every shout, and every single minute I spent on Earth. Remember me like that, okay?" 

She falls into your arms before another sob wracks through her, overcome with emotion; you rub her back and hold her tight. Your shirt grows wet from her tears, sticking to you; but you welcome the sensation. It serves as evidence that you're really here right now, and that this isn't just a figment of your imagination. 

Her nails dig into the skin of your back as she cries, but you don't mind. You stay like that until her breathing evens out some, on its way to reaching normalcy.

"How long can you stay?" She sniffles, getting the question out after a minute or two.

"For the night." You glance at the clock on the coffee table. "About 11 hours now, to be exact." 

She nods against your shoulder, not letting you go. "Then can we cuddle for a while? I need you to hold me like before again." 

"Of course, my love." Your hands fall to her thighs, slipping beneath them as you stand up and hoist her into your arms. Your hold is strong and steady, just like always, and she sinks into it as you carry her to the bedroom. She can still smell your perfume on your neck (courtesy of Aniela's workings), and she's comforted by that. 

Your lips brush against her temple. "I'll heat up your food for you in a little while, okay? We've gotta make sure you eat well." 

Her voice is soft as she speaks her reply: "Okay, baby." She settles into your body a little more, and her hair falls across your shoulder in the process. 

You shut the bedroom door with your foot before laying her down on the bed, where she remains wrapped around you. Neither of you move for a while; you lay on your back with her in your arms, legs entangled. Your hands roam up and down her back in lazy patterns until she loosens her grip a little, sleep beginning to weigh on her exhausted body.

You roll over and ease her onto the mattress, careful not to disturb her. She hums slightly in response, pressing herself into the comforter.

Your angel, so precious and mild, is finally making some progress. Her swollen features are beginning to return to normal, and their redness is lightening. 

She reaches for you and you slide in next to her without question.

"Kiss me," she requests, her eyes still closed. 

You smile before leaning in, feeling her do the same as your lips meet. It's soft and slow; an intimate pace set. She takes her time, reveling in the ways that you respond to her and finding solace in your touch. Every second like this with you is a blessing, and she wants to make them count.

So, she pulls you a little closer. Kisses you a little harder. And pushes away the reality of your impending departure. 

You have the next few hours to do whatever you want with, and she thanks her lucky stars for that gift. You'll make memories to last a lifetime, if you have to.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

The In-Between

Hours later, you wind up back in what you now know as Aniela's office. 

She opens the door and smiles, greeting you. Her heels click against the pristine floor, announcing her path to her desk with each footfall; but you stand up and stop her before she can make it there. 

Your arms wrap around her in a gracious hug, tightening when she reciprocates the gesture. 

"What's this for?" She asks, slightly taken aback.

"Everything. You've done more for me than I ever could have imagined. Thank you."

She rubs your back and presses her cheek to your head, appreciating the sudden show of affection more than you even realize. She can't remember the last time she had a proper hug.

"Seeing you happy makes it worth it, Y/N. I'm glad it all worked out." 

She pulls away, smiling at you.

You nod, agreeing as you join her at the desk. 

"What did you two do anyway?" She plays, quirking an inquisitive brow.

You smile to yourself, blushing at the memories. "I'd prefer not to say." 

She surrenders, raising her hands humorously. "I understand. I might barf if I heard it anyway," she covers her mouth, pretending to gag.

"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes, laughing.

You trade a few more jokes while she fills out a piece of paperwork. 

"Damn," you say, peeking at it. "The afterlife sure does have a lot of this." 

"No, this is all so you can get into the afterlife. The storm before the calm," she corrects. 

"Touché." 

She signs her name at the bottom before turning it around to you. She outstretches a pen directly after. 

"Just sign at the bottom whenever you're ready. I'll be sending you over after this."

You nod singularly, feeling a bit sad all of a sudden. You've grown fond of Aniela since meeting her, and the unknown that lies before you is still scary, no matter how much comfort she tries to provide. 

The prospect of leaving Jennie for good doesn't make things any easier, either. 

"I know it's upsetting, Y/N/N," she mitigates, putting a hand on top of yours. "But you deserve this peace. Saying goodbye to all of this is never easy, but you'll be happy there, too, in ways you couldn't be here. I promise."

"I'm just gonna miss this." 

"I know. And everyone and everything will miss you as well. Including me," she adds softly, squeezing your hand.

"But you won't be forgotten here, and if fate decides for all of us to meet again, we will. Things will fall into place in time. You just have to be patient." 

"Alright," you sigh, releasing your worries for the universe to deal with. You sign your name and stand, giving Aniela another warm hug. 

"Be well, Y/N/N. I've loved knowing you." 

Those are the last words you hear before leaving her arms and crossing over into the afterlife. 

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

♡  Bonus ♡

The Next Life, Years Later

Los Angeles, CA -- 10:24 AM

For once in the many years of California's history, traffic is actually moving quickly. 

It's not backed up, somehow, and Jennie is convinced that the darker workings of the universe are pulling some strings to make that happen. 

Why is that a bad thing, you ask?

Because despite the effort that Jennie's short legs are putting into each and every pump they make against the sidewalk, her pursuit of the city bus is proving fruitless. It speeds off faster than she's ever seen in go, and she curses into the wind before eventually giving up. 

She clutches her side, breathing quickly and wincing when she turns, getting an eye full of the blinding summer sun. 

Her feet ache. It's a wonder she didn't break a heel. 

*beep beep*

The sound draws her attention, having made her jump slightly. She also mentally curses the universe for making her so easily scareable. 

"Need a ride, love?" Someone asks, grinning from the seat of their moped. They're a few feet in front of her, idle in the bike lane next to the sidewalk as they reach for their helmet.

Her eyes find their way to the other person's as she approaches them, and she tilts her head curiously. A strange sensation courses through her, traveling from her heart outward and trickling down to her fingertips. 

After a few seconds, it dons on her.

"It's you," she says breathlessly, her eyes gaining a new glow.

You smile that same smile that made her fall in love with you all those years ago. "I've been waiting." 

Memories light up both of your minds at the sight of one another. They span across all of your different lifetimes together; tens of hellos, all kinds of first kisses, sad goodbyes, and even growing old together… they all intermingle, blending to become the story of you.

She surprises you when she leans in to kiss you, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt. You hold her close and return it, unable to fight the grin on your lips.

"Psst," a nearby voice later alerts, getting your attention. "Are you coming or not?" 

You turn to look towards the source of the noise.

Standing in the middle of the intersection, the traffic director tilts her head. Her curls flutter in the breeze, their luscious color showing …. Just like someone else's you know. 

"There's a line starting behind you." She nudges her head into the air, motioning behind you.

"Aniela?" No way...

She winks at you, nodding as a smile of her own grows across her face. She's more than happy to see you.

"Yeah," you answer her question, feeling content. "We'll get going." 

You peek up at Jennie, finding her already slipping your passenger helmet over her head. She peers down at you, asking how it looks.

Her cheeks are squished by the sides of it, making her look even more adorable. Quickly, you settle the clear shield into place and assure her that she's never looked better. 

She climbs onto the seat behind you, clasping her hands together in front of your abdomen. 

"Let's go, baby." 

You rev the sad little engine, laughing with her at the sound. As you take off past Aniela, you hold a hand out.

She returns the high five and waves, watching the two of you head off in hopes of getting Jennie to work on time. 

Mission accomplished, she whispers.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

(A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, my loves 💜)

Flames

Requested By Anon "King" -- Cooking au, enemies to lovers, inspiration from Hell's Kitchen

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

AU: Chef (Lisa & Reader are chefs)

Word Count: ~ 5,904

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering / Rivalry, Fluff, Suggestive Scene

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Helllloooo, peeps! I hope all of you are taking care of yourselves and having great days / nights, wherever you are :) Special thanks to this anon for being so sweet in their request -- I love cooking shows, too, so this was a fun one to write. Thank you for requesting! You're welcome in my inbox anytime ❤ Hope you guys enjoy this one :)

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Three sirloins, dying on the pass!" You shout out to your fellow chefs, shaking your head in disapproval. Service has been running fairly smoothly tonight, but a recent influx of celebrities coming from a nearby award show is slowing things to a halt. 

You give attention to the pans in front of you, stirring each of them in the pattern you've set and keeping a steady rhythm. Consistency is key, and you're one of the only chefs who hasn't lost focus yet. 

The other? Lisa Manoban. 

"Side dishes heading to the pass," she announces, setting the pans down for your head chef to plate and approve of. He does so without a second thought, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. 

The cocky smirk on Lisa's lips soon falters, though, when he gives her a warning. "You were almost too late, Manoban. Speed things up. Y/N is keeping the pace set, and you need to follow suit." 

Checkmate.

"Yes, chef," she nods, though you can tell she's annoyed. You snicker quietly, and thankfully the sounds of the kitchen conceal your little noise. If your manager were to hear you you'd surely get reprimanded, and Lisa doesn't deserve the satisfaction of seeing that. 

She returns to her station across from you, briefly meeting your gaze as a competitive fire flashes in her eyes, ignited by the comment from your higher-up.  

This is the routine that the two of you have settled into ever since you were hired five months ago. Both of you had applied for the same position, and you quickly worked your way up to where you are now. Every time you were promoted, she was never far behind. The tense nature of your relationship (if you'd even call it that) is rooted in who can put out the best tasting dishes and receive the most recognition and praise for their work. It's childish, but you'd be lying to say that part of you doesn't enjoy it. 

Especially when you win. 

Tonight is shaping up to be one of those nights, and your confidence builds with every compliment you receive. You don't let it go to your head, though; if anything, you use it as a reason to push yourself harder. 

Lisa isn't discouraged in the slightest, and she produces some of her best work right alongside yours.

"Chef, table 15 has requested for the cooks who prepared their dishes to come out to their table. They want to thank them properly," the server informs your manager, cocking his head to the side to motion towards them. 

After recognizing them as a pair of world-renowned fashion designers, he decides to sacrifice some of his best cooks' time on the line and grant their wishes. 

"What dishes did they have?" 

"Both ordered the sirloin and asparagus with potato purée, sir." 

Your head shoots up at that, excited by the confirmation of what you had been hoping for. Your senior nods to the server, turning around at the pass to look at you. 

"Y/N, Lisa; head out to greet our guests, please." 

"Right away, sir."

"On it, chef."

Both of you inform your assistants of the time left on your respective components before following after the waiter. Lisa not-so-subtly elbows you in an attempt to walk in front of you, but you step on her foot to prevent her from doing so. 

Pushing and shoving each other like schoolgirls until you're in line of sight of the customers, you follow the waiter up to their table. He leaves shortly after dropping you off.

"Good evening, ladies," you greet with a smile, watching as their faces light up. 

Lisa steps forward and extends a hand to one of them, making a crimson blush rush to her cheeks. A new feeling blossoms in your chest at their interaction, and you don't know how to take it. Deciding to just move on, you ask about their meals. 

"I hope dinner was everything you wanted it to be."

"Oh, absolutely. The sirloin was cooked perfectly. Which one of you is responsible for it?"

A proud smile forms on your lips at that, and you bow your head lightly. "Me, miss. I'm glad you enjoyed." 

"I'll have to come back more often, then. Cute and skilled? Count me in." She smirks at you, eyes taking in the sight of you in your uniform as she shamelessly flirts. You blush under her gaze, but hide it with a smug smile of your own.

"We'd be lucky to have you back anytime." 

You shoot a glance at the other girl as well, making sure to keep her feeling included. Lisa's eye roll goes unnoticed by you, as does the dejected look that threatens to show on her beautiful face. 

"My favorite part was the side dishes. The sirloin was great, but that purée was delicious. And don't even get me started on the risotto from earlier," the other woman gushes, praising Lisa's work for the night. The Thai girl perks up at that, her confidence on its way to being fully restored. 

"Ah, you're too kind." She attempts to sound humble, but you know the truth; she lives for this sort of thing. The rush of cooking and serving up dish after tasty dish is thrilling, but nothing compares to getting compliments from the customers. 

"I'm just stating facts..." she leans forward in her chair, obviously eyeing Lisa's chest as she reads her name off of her chef coat, "...Lisa." 

"Oh, yeah? How about I whip you up another batch, then? Any side you want." Your rival offers, a bruisingly sexy smile on her face as she gazes down at the woman. It isn't new for either of you to flirt with the customers and schmooze your way into their hearts (and wallets), but something in the way Lisa admires the diner makes you jealous. 

Her eyes scan over the menu as if she's looking through the options again, but she turns back to bite her lip and toy with Lisa some more. "Are you on the menu?"

She chuckles at the line, clearly not expecting that; she should've, though; it's one of the most overused pick-ups that you've ever heard. 

"I can be--"

Just as Lisa goes to lean closer to her, the waiter comes back. For some reason unknown to you, you release a breath of relief, thankful for the interruption. 

"I hate to break this up, but our chefs are needed back in the kitchen." He informs, linking his arms behind his back respectfully. 

"Ah, that's too bad. Maybe we'll stick around until service is over." Lisa's fan says, looking to her friend with a shrug of her shoulders in a silent request for her opinion. 

"Maybe, if that's alright with you."

Your customer looks up at you with hopeful eyes, though she attempts to hide it to some degree; she's not as brazen as her counterpart. 

"Of course, darling," you decide to play into it. "You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. I do recommend getting some dessert, though; pass the time a little faster. I'll be making the sweetened soufflé, if you're interested." 

"Sounds delicious; I'm sold." She smiles at you, looking you up and down one last time. 

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies." You nod, bidding both of them farewell as you turn to follow after the waiter. Lisa does the same, and you can feel her hot on your trail shortly after. 

"Back to your stations, both of you," your executive chef says upon your arrival, as if you had other intentions. 

"Yes, chef," both of you respond, heading back without a second thought. 

After pushing out a few more main dishes, you're instructed to rotate positions as the desert course kicks off. Other chefs will handle the remaining entrées now and allow you the opportunity to take over with the sweets. 

Once you've buttered and coated the soufflé dish with granulated sugar, you combine the appropriate ingredients in the bowl that rests on the countertop in front of you, making sure to keep an eye on the milk as it heats up on the stovetop. Once both tasks are completed, you stir some of the milk into the batter you made, tempering the mixture. After you're satisfied with the consistency of it, you add the rest of it back to the pot on the stove and carefully whisk the ingredients together. 

As that mellows out, you beat the egg whites required for the dish and add in the different extracts that the recipe calls for. Before long, you've folded both components in with one another and the dessert is ready to be baked. 

"Nice work, Y/N. Keep it up." Your head chef encourages, making pride swell in your chest again.

You continue on with that steady pace, and all of your soufflés come out as tasty as ever, receiving plenty of praise from your happy customers. Lisa works just as hard, though, and her toffee puddings are a major hit with the diners. 

Two hours later, dinner service is finally over. 

Lisa finishes cleaning up her station as she sneaks a glance over to you, feeling her heart beat a little faster at the way you push your hair out of your face. A few drops of condensation tumble their way down the bottle of water that you're drinking from, clearly exhausted and hot after working so hard for so long, and she bites her lip. You're too attractive for your own good, and Lisa reprimands herself for admiring you in such a way. 

You're practically enemies, after all; constantly striving for better positions and more attention, it's a never-ending battle of who can come out on top. She loves the game, if she's honest; keeping you on your toes is one of her favorite pastimes, and the banter is always a plus. 

Especially when it gets heated. 

She loves the way your brow twitches and your lips press together when you're forced to bite your tongue and keep the bickering to a minimum. You're too mature to play into her games most of the time -- not wanting to piss your head chef off -- but sometimes she gets you to break and fire off another reply, not caring what he'll say. 

She loves it. Nothing will ever compare to getting you riled up like that. 

"How's my girlfriend doing out there?" Lisa asks the server with a smile, tilting her head forward to motion to the dining room. 

"They're the only ones still here. I have to hand it to them; they're dedicated." He chuckles, clapping Lisa on the back as he passes her. "They've been talking about both of you all night." He concludes, looking between the two of you before retreating to the break room to change. 

Lisa laughs at that, and you curse yourself under your breath for enjoying the sound. 

"Come on, let's go see them before they storm the kitchen," she plays, winking at you as she pushes the swinging door open. 

At The Table, A Few Minutes Later

"I saved you a bite," your customer says, smiling at you as she reaches for a spoon that hasn't been used yet. Her friend catches the uncertain look in your eye, and she decides to ease your fears. 

"Don't worry, she didn't slobber all over it. She cut that piece out before she started eating earlier." 

You nod, thankful for the clarification. The woman turns back to Lisa, satisfied with her good deed for the day, and the two begin flirting again. 

After the woman in front of you scoops the tasty dessert up, she holds the spoon out in front of your lips. A knowing smile spreads across your cheeks, and you open your mouth for her to feed you. 

She's cute, you must say. Her auburn hair falls across her shoulders in perfect waves, complementing the velvety color of her leather jacket wonderfully. A pattern of freckles runs across the bridge of her nose, and a single, deep-set dimple presses into the soft skin of her right cheek. 

The sound of her laughter carries out across the room as you attempt to take the whole piece in one bite -- she offered way too much at once for a single bite, but you never back down from a challenge. 

Lisa subconsciously grips the tablecloth a little tighter when she sees her put a finger to your lips, preventing the food from spilling out and making a mess everywhere. You giggle and chew it up, eventually managing to swallow it without getting choked. Your fingers wrap around the customer's wrist, gently pulling her hand away from your lips as you rub her tender skin. 

The woman in front of Lisa sighs, clearly wanting attention. 

"Sorry, what were you saying?" She shakes her head, willing her envy to go away so she can flirt some more. 

"I was asking if you have plans tonight. You're probably tired from working, so I figured I could treat you to some R&R." Her tone drops lower than normal, and a suggestive look shines in her eyes as she gives Lisa another once-over. 

"Hmm, sounds like just what the doctor ordered," she leans in a bit closer, egging the girl on. They don't call Lisa a playgirl for nothing. 

"Your place or mine?" She whispers into her ear, sounding desperate to get the chef alone. 

"M-"

Lisa's response is abruptly cut off by the sound of a muffled noise of surprise from you, and she looks across the table again to find the other customer's lips pressed against yours. Your shoulders relax after a second as you return the gesture, but you eventually pull away to put some distance between the two of you. 

Fuming, now too jealous to think straight, Lisa unceremoniously stands from her seat and steps around the table to you. The fact that she was just a few minutes away from taking her customer home and doing much more than kissing is lost on her -- seeing you in such a position with the other woman sparked something in her. 

"If you'll excuse us, my colleague and I have to get going." She announces to the women, gripping your arm to pull you up from your chair. Her hold is firm, and the way her fingertips dig into your forearm sends a chill down your spine. 

"Don't wait up." She adds, dragging you behind herself as she slams the kitchen door open. She's much more bold now that the head chef has left for the night -- clearly she pays little mind to being loud or rough. 

"What the hell, Lisa?" You bite back, attempting to shake free of her grip. 

She only tightens it, saying, "Quiet, L/N."

After stepping out into the deserted hallway and ensuring that the coast is clear, Lisa opens the door to one of the utility closets and pushes you inside. You stumble a bit, feeling the unforgiving edge of one of the metal racks dig into your back as you collide with it. 

"What is your problem?" You hiss, spurred on by the stinging sensation radiating across your back. 

"You," she says, turning around to lock the door behind herself. Your brows furrow, but she's quick to explain.

"Out there kissing that customer, letting her put her hands all over you… it's pathetic." 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "Pathetic? Look at yourself, for Christ's sake; two minutes later and you would've been screwing that girl in the back of an Uber." 

She tuts at you, stalking closer. "Don't go telling lies now, Y/N/N. You know I would've taken her home on my motorcycle and then got her in bed."

You groan at her cockiness; it exudes from her in waves, irking you to no end. Sometimes you wonder if she was made to annoy you. 

"Whatever, Lisa. I'm leaving," you shoulder check her on the way to the door, but she's quick to react. Before you can move to unlock it, she has your back up against the door and her hands on your hips, keeping you pinned there. Her lips are on yours in a flash, urgently working against them in a show of how eager she is for you. 

You worked her up out there more than you realized, and she couldn't take it anymore. 

You mumble against her mouth in shock, taking a second to decide what to do with your hands. Should you push her away, or pull her impossibly closer? The choice is made for you when she parts your legs with her thigh, sliding it between them and pulling your hips forward so that you brush against it. 

A groan slips out of your mouth at the new sensation, though it's muffled against her lips. She smirks, letting go of your hips to reach around behind you and untie the apron that's secured around your waist. She praises you as you rut against her leg again, sliding her tongue across your bottom lip to ask for entrance as the material falls to the floor with a quiet noise of impact. 

Her fingertips undo the buttons of your top with haste, and she helps you slide it off your arms. It remains pooled at your waist, still tucked into your pants. 

"Tell me if you want me to stop," she whispers against your lips before pecking them one more time, leaving a trail of kisses down your jawline and towards your collarbone. 

Asking for consent is sexy as hell; especially coming from the goddess in front of you. 

You curtly nod, bringing your hands up to her back. Your nails drag along the material of her uniform, encouraging her. 

"Not so vocal now, are we?" Lisa teases, tilting your head back to grant herself more access to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

"I can walk out this door right now, you know?" You say more than ask, the syllables mixing with moans as she leaves yet another darkening love bite on you. 

"We both know that isn't true," she chuckles lowly, making you weak in the knees. You'll be damned to let go of your pride, though. 

Gathering up all of the self control you possess, you shove her away and pull your shirt back over your arms, beginning to redo the buttons. You suppress the smirk begging to make itself visible when you notice the smug expression on her face fall. Smoothing the material out, you run a hand through your hair and readjust it before unlocking and opening the door. 

The second your left foot makes it through the threshold, she's wrapping her arms around you and tugging you back in. A wave of relief washes over you at that -- you were praying she'd do exactly what she did. You hadn't imagined yourself making it down the hall, and you're not sure if you would've had the self restraint to do so.

"How the hell are you so stubborn?" She asks, letting you take over now. You drag over one of the folding chairs you spotted earlier, commanding her to sit in it with a mere glance. 

"Letting you win isn't an option, Lis. Somebody has to wipe that stupid grin off your face and put you in your place; it might as well be me." 

"How selfless," she holds her hand over her heart, face shining with mock proudness. "I'm touched." 

"Shut up already," you laugh, straddling her waist as you sit on her lap. Her hands instinctively go to your thighs, running up and down them to get you going. She can feel your warmth through the material of your pants, and the feeling is intoxicating. 

You cup her jaw and pull her closer, kissing her at a slower pace now. This one isn't as rough; it holds a whole different type of sensuality, and the occasional roll of her hips lets you know it's doing something to her, too. 

"I've wanted this for so long," she says in between kisses, gently undoing the fasteners on your jeans. 

"Really?" 

"Really." She confirms, untucking your shirt now and running her hands up your back. The cold air of the room slides under the material, ghosting over your newly exposed skin to make goosebumps appear.

"I'm surprised I held out this long," she admits, remembering all of the times she's had to stop herself from making her feelings known. 

You kiss her again before leaning back on her thighs and taking your coat and shirt off, left only in your bra. The lacey material begs to be touched, and Lisa traces the intricate patterns with her fingertips after receiving a nod from you. 

"Jesus," you moan, feeling her other hand palm your ass as she keeps you steady on her lap. 

"So beautiful," she sighs, admiring the way your cheeks have gotten flushed and how your chest rises and falls at a quicker pace now. Her hand guides the movements of your hips, and she can feel her own arousal spread to her thighs at the sight of you. 

"Who's capable of doing this to you? Making you such a needy mess?" She asks, clearly wanting an ego boost, and she squeezes your breast a little harder when you take longer than she likes to answer. 

"Y-you, Lisa." 

"That's right, baby." She kisses you again, a silent action of approval. Your movements stutter as she moves her hand to the inside of your thigh, slipping past the material of your open jeans. 

"Stop teasing already," you huff, resting your forehead against hers as you reach down to lead her hand closer to where you need her most. 

"Fine, but under one condition," she quickly caves in, sliding the thin material of your panties to the side in order to appease you. 

"Shit," you both say at the same time. In any other circumstance, you probably would've laughed at something like that, but now the atmosphere is entirely different. 

Your slick coats her fingers, and she moans at the feeling of what she's done to you.

"What's your condition?" You husk out, pressing your hand to the door behind her to give yourself better leverage to rock against her. 

"Come home with me after. I don't want to stop anytime soon." She kisses your jaw as she waits on your answer, feeling her warm breath fan out across your already heated skin. 

"Deal. Now come here."

She meets you halfway, angling her head up to capture your lips in a searing kiss as she increases the intensity of her ministrations. The sound of the chair's legs squeaking against the floor with every combined roll of your bodies makes you smile, and soon the room is filled with filthy noises of pleasure from the both of you.

The Next Morning

The sound of your phone ringing abruptly pulls you from your dream, making you blindly reach for it. Not daring to expose your eyes to the harsh morning sunlight that's pushing its way past the curtains, you stretch your arm out until your fingers brush against the smooth surface of your screen. 

You shield your eyes as you check the caller ID, only to nearly have a heart attack when you read it. 

"Good morning, sir. I'm sorry for making you wait so long." You apologize, cringing at the fact that you almost missed a call from your manager. It was probably only one or two rings away from going unanswered. 

"That's alright, Y/N," he says, sounding generous. He must be having a good day. "I'm calling to ask if you can come in. I have something I'd like to discuss with you." 

Your heart drops at that, irrationally thinking he must've somehow caught you and Lisa at the restaurant last night without you knowing, but you try to remain calm. 

"O-of course, sir. I'll be there in 30 minutes." You respond, already throwing the cover off yourself and moving to stand. 

"Thank you, Y/N. See you soon." 

He ends the call, and you try to decipher his tone. It was level and calm, holding no quality to tell you if he was angry or happy. You sigh, hoping it's nothing bad. 

You stand up and stretch the remaining tension from your body, attempting to work out the kinks Lisa made in your muscles during your tiring night together. It was everything you'd ever hoped for, and your inability to walk properly is a testament to that. 

You find a note waiting for you on the countertop in her bathroom, complete with a lipstick stain kissed onto it. You smile, picking it up. 

Morning, beautiful 

I had to leave early to take care of some business, but there's some toast waiting for you in the kitchen. It's all I had time to make. 

Help yourself to anything else you want in there.

Xoxo, Lis

In an attempt to rid yourself of the annoyingly giddy feeling warming your heart, you take your clothes -- more specifically, the pajamas that Lisa gifted you -- off and step into the shower. The steam doesn't take long to fill the room, fogging up every surface in sight. 

You look down at yourself, watching as suds trek their random paths down to your legs, and you see just how many marks Lisa really left. Your inner thighs are covered, as are your hips, neck, and abdomen, all painted in beautiful shades and designs. She was an animal, and you lived for every second of it. 

Now that you think of it, though, you'll have to dedicate a good chunk of time to covering them up with makeup before you go to the restaurant. You vow to kill her if she makes you late. 

At The Restaurant 

Releasing one last, steadying breath, you knock on the door to your boss's office.

"Come in," he says, sounding pleasant. 

When you walk in and find Lisa sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, you do a double take at her. She sports the same confused expression, but you hide your surprise and shut the door behind yourself before sitting in the seat beside her. 

"Right," he starts, linking his fingers together authoritatively as he nods. "Now that you're both here, I'd like to discuss the latest promotion available." 

Is he really going to make one of you watch while he hands the position to the other? That'll be torture -- especially if you lose. Having Lisa win like that would surely only make her teasing worse. 

"You know we need strong leadership here, and I see those qualities in both of you. I'm willing to offer you both the position of sous chef, if you can agree to work together and continue keeping your standards high. If you get too busy bickering with one another, I'll be forced to choose. You're both talented, so don't make me do that."

Lisa looks over at you, and you smile, completely taken aback. To say you're surprised is an understatement. 

"Thank you, sir." You say, snapping back to reality as you extend a hand for him to shake. 

He smiles back, looking proudly between the two of you. 

"You're welcome." 

He shakes your hand before giving the same treatment to Lisa, making her look like an excited teenager with the way her cheeks pull back in a wide grin. After talking a bit longer and working out a few specifics, the two of you leave, allowing him to attend a phone conference in peace. 

"Eee!" Lisa squeals the second you're out the door, picking you up in her arms to spin you around. You laugh at her sudden outburst, happy to have another sweet moment like this and break the tension that always seems to be swirling around the two of you. 

"I'm gonna kick your ass during service tonight," she says, smirking evilly as she sets you back down. 

"You wish. I'll wipe the floor with you." 

"Oo, kinky. I think that's the only thing we didn't try last night," she teases, tapping her chin as if she's actually thinking about it, causing you to roll your eyes and blush. 

"Shut up, Manoban. I'm sore as hell today, and I still haven't forgiven you yet." 

"Aww, does my girl need some TLC? I can help you with that, you know." 

You try not to think too far into the titles she's been giving you, but that one stands out for some reason. She likely doesn't mean anything deeper by it, but it doesn't stop you from pretending. 

You're tired of the knowing look she's sending you, so you decide to do something about it.

Sneaking a glance around the two of you, you push her against the hallway wall and kiss her. You thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on the strands to give yourself more access to her mouth, just as you did last night. She enjoyed it then, and you're hoping she likes it just as much right now. Clearly, your plan works; as you pull away from her, you're rewarded with a view of her dilated pupils, blown wide as her arousal comes back without warning. 

"That's cruel," she pouts, knowing full well you have no intention of finishing what you started. 

"Think of it as retribution." You cheerily nod, ignoring the heat pooling in your stomach at the way she's eyeing you. 

"See you tonight!" You blow her a kiss before walking away, hearing her frustrated sigh bounce off the walls.

Dinner Service

"Risotto to the pass, please!" You shout, practically begging for the line cook that you're now overseeing to do his job properly. 

"I'm a minute out, chef." 

You shake your head, but choose to ignore his incompetence for the time being. You're keeping things running smoothly, but they can easily be stalled by people like him. 

You focus on plating the entrées of another table while you wait for him to finish, and Lisa slides over the side dish that you need to add. "Thank you," you say, totally in the zone. 

"Welcome," she responds, equally as focused as you. It's definitely a quality that you admire about her; she's playful and fun, but she's serious in the kitchen. You'd clash and this whole arrangement would fail if she were any other way.

"Risotto approaching, chef." 

"Finally," you clap, ready to approve of it and send it out. Thankfully it's cooked well, and the line chef is saved from your wrath -- at least for now. 

"Service!" 

Two waiters step forward following your call, and they load the large trays into their arms before heading to the dining room. 

You get back to work on the next set of orders, reading the new tickets off to your cooks and listening for their confirmation of hearing you. 

"Try this, Y/N. I think it's missing something." Lisa says, grabbing a plastic spoon to allow you to taste test the soup waiting to be sent out. She brings the utensil up to your lips and throws it away once you gather up the liquid. 

"Basil. Tell Amanda it needs basil." 

Lisa nods, listening to you for once without question. She barks the orders out to the young chef, and the girl fires off a couple apologies as she brings the missing ingredient over. 

"Thank you, Amanda. Get back to work, I know you can do it," you encourage her, not wanting to crush her spirits too badly in the first week of her job. She's a newbie, and you remember being in her shoes once. 

Pierre, your host and main waiter, approaches the side of the pass that borders the dining room. You raise an eyebrow at his sudden presence, wordlessly asking what he needs as you stir some pasta in the pot in front of you, twisting it around your tongs to plate it. 

"We have a guest requesting to see Lisa." 

Confusion flashes across your face for a moment, but then it sinks in. Your eyes land on the woman from last night, finding her standing near the front door with her arms crossed and a smirk on her lips. She waves to Lisa in greeting, and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying something out of line. 

You can feel Lisa's gaze trail over to you, but you don't look up. 

"Tell her I'll be there in a minute." She orders Pierre, quickly thanking him as he heads off to do as she asked. 

She wants to say something to you, but she doesn't know exactly what. Her feelings are still jumbled from last night, and she's not too entirely certain on where you stand with one another. 

--

You subconsciously hold your breath as she approaches the girl, getting pulled in for a tight hug as if she's known her for years. Was that the "business" she had to take care of this morning? Who knows. 

They continue their conversation for a few minutes, and you distract yourself by focusing on pumping more food out. 

"Good job, team. Keep it up," you praise them, happy to see everyone working well together. They thank you for the encouragement, and promise to keep their momentum going. 

A few minutes later, as things begin to get a little hectic, you sneak a glance up at Lisa. She locks eyes with you, as if on cue. 

You can see her trying to politely leave, but the woman puts a hand on her forearm, stepping forward to flirtily whisper something in her ear. She eventually manages to get her to back away, and she points at the door. The customer glares at you over Lisa's shoulder, leaving you confused but delighted. Seeing her unhappy is a treat in and of itself. 

As Lisa turns around and starts to walk back to the kitchen, you quickly jump back into action, narrowly avoiding getting caught staring. Lisa has a sneaking suspicion that that's exactly what you were doing, but she doesn't speak on it as she rounds the corner of the pass. 

"Well?" You nonchalantly ask, glancing at her in your peripheral. Your hands arrange a new set of plates on the tray between you, and her fingers brush against yours as she adds a side salad to it. 

"She wanted to finish what she started last night." She informs, pausing before she finishes telling you what happened in order to build suspense and torture you some more. 

"I said no, of course," she assures you, smiling when she notices you sigh in relief. "I've got my eye on someone else now." 

"Yeah?" You ask, turning to look at her with a soft smile. Her change in demeanor makes your heart flutter. 

"Yeah. Amanda's looking pretty good, isn't she?"

"Hey!" You shout, a little too loud for your own good, making Lisa laugh. You apologize to the guests and staff before punching Lisa in the arm, ready to get revenge later. 

"Kidding, babe. You think I'd let you go after last night?" She cocks her head to the side, sounding genuinely confused that you could think such a thing. "Not a chance," she smiles, leaning to the side to kiss your cheek and bump your hip with her own. 

Who would've thought you could end up here with her?

We be missing you! I hope you’re doing fine🥺

Fear not, my love! I'll be returning sooner rather than later, and with a new Jennie book for you to enjoy. It started off as a oneshot but I felt inspired 😌 I'll no longer be writing a vampire AU book for her; this is taking its place.

Thank you for being patient with me :) Life's been pretty chaotic lately, but I'm making the most of it. I hope you're taking care of yourselves as well.

See you soon, xoxo 💜🌹

Never Really Over

Pairing: Model!Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 21,684

Warnings / Misc. – Angst, Smut, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hi, everyone. I really hope you enjoy this fic 💜 It took me a long time to finish it and it might be a little messy in some places, but I hope it’s worth the wait. Happy reading 🌹

♤《◇》♤《◇》♤《◇》♤《◇》♤《◇》♤《◇》♤《◇》

It’s cold, when your journey begins. 

Chilly, early December air nips at your cheeks before swirling down to raise the ends of your trench coat as you march your way down 5th Avenue. 

Crunch, crunch, crunch

Each hit of your boots against the sidewalk is precise, final. Something about them resembles a warning sign, though you can’t quite explain it. 

Perhaps it’s the rhythmic scrape that accompanies each footfall, made by the rock that worked its way into one of the rubber grooves earlier.

Yeah, you think to yourself. That’s it. 

Bright, shimmering lights of the city around you all vie for any attention they can get, and you watch as couples and tourists alike all flock to the usual spots. Some eagerly dart into the bakeries that your town’s known for, while others step up to vibrant kiosks on the street corners to buy overpriced trinkets and knick knacks. 

A feeling of nostalgia settles deep in your bones as you pry your eyes away and pull your jacket tighter around yourself, both in search of its warmth and the comfort that it provides. 

It’s a sanctuary, more or less. From the jealousy you feel upon witnessing their happiness. 

From the cold shoulder of loneliness.

The worn-in seams welcome you without judgment, and the small stitching on the inside of your right sleeve gives you something you can’t live without. 

K.J., it reads. 

You always used to tell her how much you missed her when she was away, so she had her initials put in the familiar material just for you. She gave you the coat on your birthday so you could always have a piece of her with you, and you’d never been happier than you were that day.

But now, over 2 years later, that’s about the only thing you have left of her. 

The ache in your chest, too, of course, but you can only really blame yourself for that.

Pockets of conversation fill the evening air around you as you pass by different crowds, still set on your way towards the restaurant that you ordered some food from. The delivery fee was far too much for such a short distance, and so you decided to just trek the few blocks there and grab it. 

A quiet buzz from the neon lights above you can be heard as you turn the corner, each step bringing you even closer to your destination, and a small smile works its way onto your face. Bittersweet, though it still shines in its own way. 

La Belle, reads the sign that you know all too well. Its oval surface is rimmed with a dark shade of brown, slightly chipped from the elements, while the middle is a pristine oak color – untouched. 

A tiny bell dings as you open the door and walk inside, glancing around the lowkey space. The lights are dimmed as people converse with one another, some flirting over the rims of their martinis while others talk business. A family is seated next to the window as well, seemingly celebrating a birthday of one of the children. 

I’m 6! is displayed across a party hat in fun letters, sitting atop the head of the smallest at the table. Her sweet grin widens when she sees you, briefly locking eyes with a subtle wave, and the heavy feeling looming over you lifts, if only a little. 

“Welcome to La Belle,” a pleasant voice introduces, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn to the left, greeted by a blonde woman who’s waiting behind the hostess stand. 

“How may I help you?” She asks, voice rich with a southern drawl. 

“I’m here for a pick-up order. Y/N,” you tell her, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. 

She pushes a few buttons on the tablet that sits in front of her, efficiently checking on the status of your food. “It looks like we’ll have it ready in about 5 minutes. If you’d like, you can take a seat over there and we’ll bring it right out." 

She points to a line of chairs behind you, maybe 4 or 5 red-cushioned seats, and you nod. 

"Thank you." 

"Of course, Miss." 

You make your way over and sit down, leaning back as you survey the place some more. Posters and picture frames adorn the walls, mix-matched in their contents and yet never coming across as tacky or out of place. Everything looks as if it’s meant to be exactly where it is. 

One painting in particular stands apart from all the rest, though: the centerpiece of the restaurant, displayed in the middle of the dining room’s back wall. It stretches out quite a ways, almost as more of a mural than a regular painting, and pictures two lovers. 

One is more androgynous in their appearance, clad in a tunic and cloak as their shoulder length hair falls in soft waves. The other, feminine in every way, dons a floral dress that stops just above her ankles. 

Standing beneath the partially enclosed space of a beautiful veranda, their meeting place is secretive – a quiet escape for the both of them. Their arms are outstretched towards one another as they rush to meet in the center of the room; you’ve always loved how the artist captured their movements perfectly. 

The woman’s dress ruffles as she hurries towards her lover, likely having been separated for some time, and the cloak that the other wears ripples with movement. 

Their fingertips lightly brush against each other, but just barely; they haven’t yet reached one another. Smiles adorn their faces, vibrant and contagious the longer you look; just at the sight of one another, they’re smitten once more. 

And you can see it. 

You can see the eagerness that lies behind their eyes as they peer at one another, having missed the simple pleasure beyond words. An urgency fuels their movements – draws them to one another. The longing they feel is tangible, and now you feel it, too. 

You try to reason that it’s just because of the artist’s talent, but you know you’re kidding yourself. 

It’s obvious, really, why you’re feeling this way now. For when Jisoo was sat beside you at one of those linen-topped tables in this very dining room all that time ago, admiring the work displayed, you never really understood the piece. 

She was yours then, and you never had to miss her like the lovers pictured there do.

The intention and passion was all there – all grasped by you – but you failed to notice the way their muscles strained beneath their clothes, peeking out of the areas that their garments exposed. You failed to realize then why they were so determined to be reunited. 

But now, sitting here in the lobby of a place you once loved being, you’ve never felt more alone. You’ve never understood their reasoning more.

Your back presses against the cool metal bars of the chair, and for a moment, you try to remember what it felt like to sit at your regular table here. 

Keep reading

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (1/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! Anon, I assume you wanted to see each individual relationship with the girls and not OT4 x Reader. If not, I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this regardless.

This post includes Jisoo and Jennie. If you would like to see Rosé and Lisa's, click the link below.

Click for Rosé and Lisa

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Kim Jisoo: The girl at the top of her class, breezing through her school years with little competition whatsoever. She was used to winning, and anyone that ever tried to challenge her eventually gave up.

You: Also used to being at the top of your class, you were the first person to actually give Jisoo a run for her money. You didn't shy away when challenged by her, and that took her aback.

Your rivalry was one rooted in academics.

When a new project was assigned and you were allowed to choose your teammates, everyone would flock to the two of you in hopes of getting picked.

Bragging rights were awarded to whoever had the longest line of people.

Impatiently waiting to see who scored higher on tests.

Rubbing it in when you did better, and vice versa.

"Ha! Take that, Jisoo. I got a 98."

"Don't get cocky, Y/N. I beat you by 6 points last week."

"Yeah, yeah," you brush her off. "Look who's on top now." You hold your paper up, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

Other competitions were held, and even the teachers caught on and would adjust their lessons accordingly.

"Class, today we'll be having a set of one on one debates, and an anonymous vote will determine the winner of each. The person who defends their opinion the most effectively will win. Jisoo and Y/N, you're up first."

Although losing was always annoying, it made you respect each other a little more.

You both loathed and revered each other, though you'd never let that secret out.

Fighting for the best scholarships and rankings.

Constant bickering and one liners in class

"Should I go ahead and apologize now, or is it okay to wait?"

"Apoligize for what?"

"Ending your career."

*unintelligible mumbling*

"What was that, Y/N?" Jisoo inquires, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at you.

"I said: you're going down."

She scoffs at that, unaffected. "Please, I'd like to see you try."

You ended up winning that day, and she was all *surprised pikachu*

School would always be interesting and eventful with her

Pretty much everyone else can tell that you have a thing for one another, but the two of you remain oblivious.

Turning Point

Both of you joined the academic team when you enrolled, which meant that you'd be going toe to toe with other school teams in pursuit of the winning title.

On one of your overnight field trips to face off against another school, you were assigned to the same hotel room.

"Mrs. Wilson, I can't stay with her--" You walk down the hotel hallway behind your instructor, hoping she'll see your point. Her reasoning for putting you together on the roster is beyond you.

"Y/N, it's only for a night. You know we can't afford to give all of you individual rooms; our budget's already small." She reasons, eventually turning towards you when she reaches the elevator.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, putting your hands up.

What she says next surprises you. "Who knows, you might enjoy it." A knowing look shines in her eye, and a small smirk threatens to tug at her features.

The elevator dings just as you go to question her about it, and she bids you farewell before heading in.

You can do this, Y/N. It's just one night; how bad can it be? You ask yourself, taking your sweet time in going back to the room.

---

An Hour Later

In an attempt to kill some time and recover from the fatigue your long road trip brought on, you've been trying to relax and take a nap. In fashion with your typical luck, though, Jisoo is making that nearly impossible.

"Jisoo, turn it down!" You groan, tossing a pillow at her head. She sits on the loveseat at the foot of your bed, completely fixated on the images flashing before her eyes as she plays her video game.

"Shhh, stop distracting me." She says over her shoulder, making you huff.

You value your pride too much to ask nicely, so you suck it up and stick it out for a little while longer. When she lets out a loud shout a few minutes later, though, you've reached the end of your patience.

Wordlessly, you get out of bed and stomp over to the TV, standing directly in front of it.

"Y/N, move! I'll lose!"

You stay there with your arms crossed, and are soon rewarded by the game's voiceover announcing: "Game over."

She huffs and sets her controller down, clearly upset.

"Sucks when people don't listen, huh?" You challenge, still mad that you've been denied a proper nap for so long. Every time you'd be right on the cusp of being drug under, slipping in and out of glorious slumber, she'd do something to ruin it. You're cranky now, and being petty seems like a just punishment for her.

"I can't believe you did that," she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "That was the championship match!"

"Oh well," you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips at that new piece of info. Perhaps justice has been served after all.

With one more warning glance at her to tell her not to do it again, you go back to the bed and get comfy, settling under the warm blankets.

---

30 Minutes Later

"ON YOUR RIGHT, ABOUT TO ROUND THE CORNER!" Jisoo bellows out, smirking when she feels you stir behind her. You scowl, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

"Jisoo, I swear to God," you grumble, feeling the irritation rise in you all over again. You get up again and approach her, but she has a plan this time. In one fluid motion, she sticks her foot out in front of you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

"What the--" as you prepare to reprimand her, you see something out of your peripheral. Aided by your new perspective, you spot the remote controller on the coffee table right in front of you, just an arm's length away.

When Jisoo notices that you haven't screamed at her yet, she looks down and realizes her mistake. A dramatic moment passes where you both lock eyes, before immediately diving for the remote. You manage to get to it first, quickly hugging it close to your body and rolling away from her. She pounces a second later, reaching her hands around you to pry it from your grip.

"Give it back, Y/N!"

"No!"

You writhe underneath her until she manages to get the upper hand, straddling your hips in an attempt to pin you down. She sits back on her knees, gazing down at you as your chests heave from the effort you've exerted.

"Give it." She commands, holding her hand out expectantly.

You shake your head, amused that she thought that would be enough to sway you. "No."

"Then you leave me no choice." Her hands dart forward to your abdomen, and she begins tickling you mercilessly in order to make you surrender. Calls for her to cease her assault struggle past your lips, but you know it's futile. She's a determined person just like you, and she won't stop until she gets what she wants.

So, after taking a second to think of a way out of your predicament, a brilliant idea pops into your head.

You finally let her pry your arms open, smirking when she cheers and claims victory. In one fluid motion, just as she had done before, you wrap your leg around one of hers and flip her onto her back before leaning down to kiss her. She tenses up at first, but her hands end up working their way to your hips as her lips begin to move against yours.

Your plan is backfiring a bit; you only intended to shock her and buy yourself time to steal the remote back -- you never thought you'd actually enjoy the feeling of her kiss. You tilt your head to the side to get a better angle and slowly skim your hand down to hers, where the device is tightly clutched. Her other hand has come up to your jaw, which she's gently guiding as she steals another kiss from your lips.

Her distracted state made it easy to get what you were after, and soon -- much too soon for Jisoo's liking -- you pull away with a victorious smile. She doesn't know what to say; in all honesty, she's almost forgotten how to breathe with the way you kissed her senseless.

"I win." You grin, hopping off of her and shutting the TV off before crawling back into the bed. She stays in that same position for a couple minutes, laying on the floor as she tries to sort through what the hell just happened. She can't even be upset right now; she brings her fingertips to her lips, skimming them over the heart-shaped pillows as she smiles.

The Fallout

Things were a little tense when you shared the bed that night

Anytime you'd roll over and readjust your head on the pillow in your sleep, unknowingly positioning your lips dangerous close to hers, her heartbeat would pick up and she'd have to roll over again

You pretended to be asleep when she scooted back against you, pressing herself against your front in search of the heat that your body provided. You brought an arm around her, enclosing her in a soft embrace that had her blushing crimson

Subtle flirting at the competition the next day

Sticking up for each other when one of the other teams got a little rude

"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Jisoo warns, glaring at the student from your rival school. His uniform is mussed and unkempt, leaving it as no surprise that he was the one to say such a thing.

"Why do you care?" He laughs back, spurred on as his friends snicker along.

The question catches her off guard; just days ago, she was the one bantering with you and testing your limits. Now though, when someone else is taking it too far, she can't help but feel angry. "Because she's my teammate. Now knock it off or I'll report you to your dean for unsportsmanlike behavior."

He scoffs, but eventually opts to grumble out another insult and turn away, nursing his bruised ego.

"Thanks, Chu." You quietly say, having witnessed the whole encounter from the row behind her. A small smile tugs at your lips at her actions, warming your heart.

"No problem, Y/N. But you'd better help me beat him; I'm not losing to that idiot." You laugh and agree, shaking her hand to seal your pact. She tries not to get too caught up on the smoothness of your skin or how it reminds her of last night, but her brain doesn't listen.

Needless to say, you beat them.

Your team stopped by a nice restaurant on the way back home for a celebratory dinner

Jisoo sat beside you

Cue the blushing and quiet flirting

It's a new side of her that you're not used to seeing. Now, instead of being all hardcore and witty, a simple look from you can make her blush

It doesn't always, though; sometimes she grows bold and lays a hand on your thigh for a moment, laughing at something you said

It's giving very much so gay panic™️, but you wouldn't trade it for the world

After the dinner, you go back to the bus and sit in your seats (which aren't together, surprisingly).

As you scroll through your phone, you get a text from Jisoo. Attached to the message is an invitation to one of her favorite mobile games.

"Hey, Y/N. Will you be my player 2? 🎮"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

Jennie Kim: The girl who practically ran the school, always getting her way and never having to lift a finger. She was royalty: the queen bee sat atop her throne, giving orders to the masses that they followed blindly. The whole situation seemed straight out of a poorly-written teenage movie, and it always annoyed you.

You: The girl who stuck to herself, only having a close group of friends that she talked to. You weren't popular, per se, but you weren't cursed to exist at the bottom of the food chain, either. Many people knew you, but you only associated with a select few.

You avoid the "popular" crowd a majority of the time, opting to spend spare time in between classes in the library or outside, doing homework

Jennie is the type of person that has people lined up, waiting for her to ask them to do hers for her. She gets to skip class and do whatever she wants, and she usually takes advantage of that.

She's never been mean to you directly, but you've seen her and her posse pick on people in typical mean girl fashion

You've never noticed the way that she usually targets people who've said bad things about you. She sticks up for you without you even knowing.

So, as you would expect, when your best friend called you and begged you to accompany her to one of the biggest parties of the year (hosted by none other than Jennie's brother), you were definitely surprised. Neither of you are the type to go to anything like that, but you know that she secretly wants to peek into that world of luxury.

"Pleaaaaase, Y/N? I'll do your laundry for a month."

"Fine."

The Turning Point

Your stylish boots crunch lightly against the concrete as you stand outside of the frat house, grimacing when you notice a boy stumble to the side of the house and get sick.

"We might have to bump that offer up to two months," you say to your friend, leaning onto her car as she checks her makeup in the side mirror.

"If it keeps you here for an hour or so, then fine." She smiles, taking your hand and leading you towards the building. Upon opening the door you're immediately greeted by waves of the strong bass of whatever song is playing. Their rhythmic thumps reverberate around the house, and you choose to seek some semblance of peace and quiet by heading to the kitchen. Your friend comes with, and the two of you push your way to the drink bar for refreshments.

"Thanks again for coming along, Y/N/N. You're the best." She leans into you, saying the phrase loud enough for you to hear over the music.

"I know," you hold your head up higher, self-assured. "You'd better go find Benji before things get too wild," you tell her, taking note of how the crowd is quickly growing in size. Benji, her longtime crush, is the only reason you really agreed to tag along; she's been head over heels for him for as long as you've known her, and you see this as the perfect opportunity for her to finally tell him. She needed some backup, and you always come through for your friends.

"Alright, I'll come find you later," she says, nervously smiling as she kisses your cheek as a farewell. You shout encouragement to her retreating figure, grinning wildly when you see her throw her hand up in the air.

Considering you made a drink for her just then before sending her off, you take the time now to make one for yourself. Your hands skim through the air overtop of the different bottles, searching for your favorite flavors and types to mix. As you go to reach across the table for one of them, disaster strikes.

You gasp as cold liquid lands on your shoulder, following gravity's command and rushing down your back and chest. A flurry of apologies follows suit, and you feel a soft hand on the small of your back as you go to turn around.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Jennie says, covering her mouth in shock. For a moment you're worried that she was dared to do this -- that perhaps her friends sent her off to ruin your outfit and embarrass you. When you find sincere regret in her deep brown eyes, though, all of those worries melt away.

"It's alright," you assure her, shaking your arms to get rid of some of the sticky drink that's trailed its way down. You set your half-filled cup on the table, no longer interested in getting anymore now.

"At least let me wash the shirt for you. I have a coat you can wear while its getting clean."

You furrow your brows at the offer, not expecting that from her. Not only has she apologized, which is practically unheard of from the prima donna, but she's willing to do something for another person?

"Uh, okay." You do your best to mask the confusion in your tone, but it's still plain to see.

"Follow me," she politely instructs, leading you down the hall towards what you assume is the laundry room.

She flips the light on and shuts the door behind you, walking into the closet to search for the spare set of close she keeps here.

When she emerges again, fluffy coat in hand, she begins stumbling over the words she was about about to say. Her eyes land on you, taking in the expanse of exposed skin now that you've stripped off the shirt you were wearing. She can't help but admire the sight; she subconsciously bites her lip, only being brought back to reality when you wave your hand in front of her face.

"Hello? Earth to Jennie?"

"What?" She eventually asks, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts swarming in it. She's always had a sort of thing for you, but she never imagined you could look that good. It should be a crime.

"I asked if you have a bathroom around here, so I can, ya know... wash up a bit. Whatever you had to drink is pretty sticky." You chuckle, moving your arm to show her how far it's spread.

"This room over here," she says, approaching a door on the wall opposite you, "is actually a bathroom. Convenient, right?" She asks, flipping the light on for you.

"Absolutely," you perk up, glad to know that you won't have to strut down the hall in your sports bra to get to a bathroom.

She steps to the side and pushes the door open for you, nearly melting when you give her a little wave and shut it behind yourself. She's got it bad.

She takes your shirt and throws it in the washer before setting the knobs correctly, knowing the best combos by heart. She and her brother are close, so it's not uncommon for her to come by and help him with chores when he gets swamped.

A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom clean and dry, nervously fidgeting with your hands as she turns to look at you again. Having the Jennie Kim looking at you in such a way and having her so close is a bit overwhelming, and you're not exactly sure how to deal with it.

"Here," she says, reaching around you to slide her jacket onto your arms. Her face hovers dangerously close to yours as she does, making you hold your breath in anticipation. She pulls the jacket closed, adjusting it so that it lays right, and you look into her eyes.

"Thanks, Jen."

Her heart speeds up at the nickname, though she tries not to show it.

"No problem, sweet thing." She flirts, taking you aback.

Just as you go to say something more, the door blasts open and a couple of her friends pop in. "There you are Jennie! What are you-- oh," they say, watching as the two of you spring apart.

When they realize who you are, they laugh among themselves. "What're you doing in here with her?" They ask, looking you up and down before ultimately appearing unimpressed. Jennie glances at you again, and you can see her going through some sort of inner turmoil.

"Thank God you guys showed up; she won't quit talking. I was just about to leave." She laughs, regaining the bitchy aura that she's known for. You set your jaw and nod, remembering why you choose to stay away from people like them.

"Wow, Jennie. You really had me fooled," you bite back, a bit shocked, but not surprised. You keep your eyes on hers as you take her jacket off and let it drop to the floor in front of her, grabbing a spare towel from the hamper on your way out the door. Her friends scoff at you, wondering what such a nobody like you thinks they're doing treating Jennie like that. You brush past them and send her one last look, conveying all the emotions you feel with a mere glance.

She's disappointed in herself, and she hangs her head as the girls scoop the designer material up and hand it to her.

----

45 Minutes Later

Just 15 more minutes, Y/N; totally doable. You reason with yourself. Jennie left the laundry room soon after you, leaving it vacant for you to put your shirt in the dryer and retrieve it when it was done. Now, clad in the warm material, you sit outside by the fire. Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, illuminating it so beautifully that your mind is taken off of what happened. They twinkle for you, and the sight puts you at ease.

What has that pleasant feeling dissipating in a second, however, is the sound of Jennie's voice as she exits the patio door.

She's talking to her friends about some boy that's in love with her, as the whole school seems to be, and you roll your eyes. With the moment officially ruined, you decide to head back into the house and spend the rest of your sentence there.

Once you stand up from your seat and turn around to take your leave, her friends notice you. "Jesus, you're really obsessed, aren't you? Are you following her or something?" One of them, a snarky blonde from earlier, asks.

You laugh at that. "Hardly," you glance at Jennie, though she avoids eye contact. "I'm sure you'd like that, though. Give you something to talk about other than your split ends." She reels back at your boldness, prepared to start a fight.

"You bitc--"

"Stop," Jennie finally steps in, cutting the girl off. She moves between the two of you, putting a hand on your chest and looking into your eyes.

"Jennie, I don't know what her problem is," the blonde squeaks out, trying to defend her actions.

"The problem doesn't lie with her," she tells her, leaving her puzzled. Jennie continues, "I lied earlier; I'm the one who invited her to the laundry room because I spilled my drink on her." You narrow your eyes at her following her statement, wondering where she's going with this.

"We probably would've kissed, too, if you hadn't walked in."

Your heart speeds up a little at that, but you're still hurt by what she did earlier. Having her be one way with you in private and another in public is never a good sign.

"I'm done with you guys. You turn me into something I'm not," she looks between the small following that's accrued, letting them know how she's been feeling for the past bit. The majority of them are stuck up and entitled, and seeing the hurt in your eyes put things into perspective for her. She likes you, and she wants to be better because of that.

"I don't understand, Jennie," one of them asks, sounding like she's on the brink of tears. Are these people really that invested? You know the hierarchy of popularity is confusing, but they make it seem like she's breaking up with them.

"We're not friends anymore. Not until you get your heads out of your asses and start being nicer."

The crowd clearly doesn't know how to react at her sudden change in attitude, but they mutter out various responses before some of them break away.

You look down at her and glance to the house, wordlessly telling her to follow you so that you can have a moment alone to talk. You lead her over to the patio and stand against the wall.

"I'm sorry," she says, sounding relieved to finally get the words out. Her previous actions have been weighing heavily on her, and she's been doing some introspection. It's not entirely all of a sudden, though; she's been questioning why she still hangs out with them for a while now. This encounter just confirmed her desire to leave them.

"I shouldn't have lied like that. I know it hurt you." She looks away, feeling disappointed again.

"Yeah, it definitely wasn't fun to have my crush talk about me like that." You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"Crush?" Her head raises up, doing a terrible job of concealing the hopefulness she feels blossoming.

"Crush." You lightly smile at the way she blushes at your simple confirmation. She's too adorable for her own good; it's really no wonder than she has everyone on their knees for her.

"Thank you for apologizing," you say after a moment, nudging her shoulder gently. "It's more than your posse usually gives, so I appreciate it. You'd better mean it, though." You cock your head at her expectantly, a hint of warning in your tone.

"You have my word," she smiles, determined to make sure the opportunity you're giving her doesn't go to waste.

The Fallout

In the following weeks, she cut ties with more and more toxic people, causing a bit more drama to stir up, but she didn't care. You were by her side through all of it, as were your friends, and she saw what true community looks like. She had so many people at her beck and call back then, but none of them cared as much as your close knit group. They were in it because of her status, not because of her.

Walking her to class

Both of you sticking up for each other if people try to start stuff

Helping her correct her bad habits if she starts to get judgemental with someone or slips back into her old ways

Being patient with her

Her spoiling you randomly to show how thankful she is for you

"Miss L/N, we have a Candy Gram for you. Sent by Jennie Kim." A staff member says upon entering the classroom, walking the package over to you. You grin widely as you open the note attached to it.

"Come see me after class, Y/N/N. I have something for you."

You were excited for the rest of class

You rode your bike back to her dorm, parking it outside before knocking on the door.

"Hey, Jendeukie. What do you have for--"

You're abruptly cut off by her lips pressing against yours as her hands pull you in, turning you to mush. You sink into her arms and kiss back, reveling in the feeling of finally having this moment with her. You've been waiting for it ever since the party.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she softly admits, resting her forehead against yours. "I hope I didn't overstep." You can hear the nervousness in her voice, and you smile at how cute she is.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Come here," you pull her in again, lifting her up into your arms as you walk into her dorm. She squeals at the sudden move, but the sound is quickly muffled as you lean in to kiss her again.